Shades Of Gray
by Bookwrm389
Summary: "The rain still pattered against the roof, and the house remained dead. One voice was still unaccounted for. Their little sister." Ed dreams of the one he couldn't save.


_A.N. So...my 50th story. I feel like I should have a cake and some candles to celebrate. For my 50th story, I decided to explore a character and a relationship that I love dearly, and yet I only have one other story about the two of them. Sad, huh? It's short, it's kind of whimsical, and it's angst, which seems to be everyone's favorite genre. I could go on and on about the theme and what I was trying to get at as I wrote this, but I think I'd rather leave it open to interpretation (a nice way of saying that even I wasn't sure what I was going for...I just went with whatever words and phrases felt right).  
_

_Strangely, I was inspired to write this while listening to Kelly Clarkson's, Before Your Love. The title of my story comes from the first few lines of the song. Romantic song, unromantic story. The muse works in odd ways._

Shades Of Gray

The sky was one big slate of silver and smoke as mist drizzled down to the city like liquid mercury, smothering the streets and the houses with those same dull, dreary colors. He wished it would just rain already. There were signs that it already had sometime in the night. Puddles spilled over onto the concrete path that cut across the lawn to the Tuckers' front door, and he found himself tiptoeing around the still mirrors as if the lightest pressure from his boot would shatter them.

Or maybe he just didn't want to get his real foot soaked. Rain in the cities was always so cold, numbing him to the bone.

The bell rang, oddly muffled, and Al pushed the door open with a cheerful call. "Hello, Mr. Tucker! Thanks for having us again today!"

He stepped over the threshold after his brother and shuddered. The cold was in here too. In the silence, in the emptiness, in the shadowed rooms where no one had bothered to turn on any lights or start a fire in the grates. His breath took form as a wisp of whitish fog. He looked back to make sure Al left the door open and he could still see the clouds and the puddles and the feeble sunlight pushing through the miserable weather.

Al called again. "Mr. Tucker?"

Room by room, they searched. Details were blurred by the murky light, but he thought there might have been a dusty kitchen, a vacant hallway, a chilly lounge. Some of it even reminded him of the _other _home, the one consumed by fire long ago. He wondered idly if he should burn this one down too. It only made sense. Red and orange and yellow were the best and the brightest, the only hues capable of combating this awful gloom that had permeated both houses.

Heaven was fire and air and light. Hell was ice and darkness and blood. He should know. In his short life, he had seen both.

Outside, the rain began to fall.

"Mr. Tucker? Alexander?"

There was another name he was supposed to be calling, but his throat locked around it, refused to speak it. Al was being too loud, he thought in panic. Something would hear them, something would _answer _them, and then they would find out why the house was so dark and cold instead of vibrant and alive.

"Is anyone here?"

The laboratory door was before them, his automail was aching, and he _didn't want to go in_. He didn't want to find out how many more people had died because of alchemy. Something growled on the other side, and Al said something about one of the chimeras getting out. Even now, his brother didn't sense the sin all around them. He still believed that somewhere beyond those sinister clouds, the sun still existed and would one day grace them with its radiance.

But the legend was false. Icarus wasn't burned by the sun. He never even got close enough to find out if it was there at all. It was the clouds that blocked his way and the rain that ruined his wings and brought him back to earth.

The only god he saw that day was Death.

The door before them burst open all on its own to reveal...nothing. In place of the laboratory was a deep, yawning pit as endlessly black as the abyss within the Gate. He threw up his hands and screamed when a huge white shape sprang out at him from the void, all teeth and claws and wild eyes. The thing pinned him on his back, so heavy that his lungs were crushed, and a frothing mouth snapped shut right in front of his face. And he couldn't look at it, he _wouldn't_, because this thing, this _monster_ was really—

"Alexander!"

Al punched the rabid beast so hard that its neck snapped and it slumped to the floor in a heap. He stared at the corpse, uncomprehending. A dog, not a chimera. The revelation was so shocking that he dared to look into the lab again. The shadows were swept away to reveal Shou Tucker sprawled out in a pool of his own blood, throat torn and blank eyes staring at the broken glasses beside his face in bewilderment.

He touched the dog's head with a shaking hand. Alexander. The dog had _known_. Somehow...

And that was when he remembered the name.

"Nina..."

"What?"

What did Al mean, _what?_ It should have been the first thing his brother thought of too! One voice was still unaccounted for. Their little sister...

"Nina! _Nina!_"

Vivid, dazzling sunlight pierced the clouds and shone into the laboratory through a window that hadn't existed before. Every little dank corner was illuminated by the strange white light, gleaming brightly off the empty cages stacked against the wall and spilling over onto a perfectly clean floor. No body, no blood. No sin. Al was gone. Both the chimeras and Shou's unspeakable research had vanished. Even the dog was nowhere to be found.

And yet the rain still pattered against the roof, and the house remained dead. He threw his head back as yet another scream ripped through his throat.

"_NINA!_"

"_Big brother!_"

He crawled across the floor and fumbled with the lock of one particular kennel just big enough for a four-year-old to sit inside. He reached into the dusky interior and heaved her out, holding her, crushing her tiny body to his chest. She wasn't even crying. When he pulled back to look at her face, she was smiling, cobalt blue eyes radiant as she clung to the lapel of his coat and tugged his braid.

"_You found me, big brother! Now it's your turn to hide..._"

"_Nina..._"

"Brother?"

Ed opened his eyes blearily, a smile still tugging at his lips as Nina's warmth receded. A childish laugh floated over to him from somewhere nearby. She must have caught him falling asleep on top of the books again and ambushed him with a surprise wake-up hug. He was in for it when Al found out. Nina never hesitated to rat him out to his brother...

"Ed, are you awake?"

He raised his head from the pillow under his cheek, smile fading when he saw a dim hotel room instead of the Tucker mansion. The thin blanket had slipped down until it only covered his legs, and what little heat he had built up was swiftly dispersing. Ed heard the laughter again and followed it to the window, to the mother and son walking down the street outside under a faded blue umbrella. Their forms were distorted, barely discernible through the curtain of rain drops trickling down the glass.

Al touched his arm. When Ed didn't respond, his grip became a little tighter, a shackle of ice. "Brother...did you dream of...?"

"She was alive," Ed whispered, heart cracking open and bleeding all over again when the _real_ memories came back to him. "She _was_. We saved her."

Al's next four words were his undoing. "I wish we had."

The boy plunged into a puddle feet first, and the mother cried out in dismay when water splashed all over her skirt. Then the two of them vanished when everything bled together in a meaningless swirl. One scorching tear balanced precariously on Ed's eyelashes. He pressed the heel of his palm against his eye and turned over, reaching blindly for the colorless blob at his side. He couldn't even speak his brother's name, but Al heard the plea anyway. Leather fingers combed through the hair at the nape of his neck.

"It's okay, Brother. It's okay to cry..."

Ed pressed his face into his pillow as the tears fell fast and thick, sobs wracking his chest. Al didn't understand. He didn't _want _to cry. Not _ever_.

Because the tears made everything look the same as the day another child was lost to sin. Just shades of gray.


End file.
